


beyond redemption

by xnowimnothing



Category: HIM (Band), Jackass (Movies) RPF, Viva La Bam RPF
Genre: Finger Sucking, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:08:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28944927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xnowimnothing/pseuds/xnowimnothing
Summary: Bam feels more at home in HIM's dressing room than in his actual house.
Relationships: Bam Margera/Ville Valo
Comments: 8
Kudos: 9





	beyond redemption

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SmileAndASong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmileAndASong/gifts), [throwupsparkles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/throwupsparkles/gifts).



> English is not my first language. I apologize for any mistakes.  
> This could've been better but I'm old and tired and mentally ill. No thoughts in this brain of mine only sk8er boi with his goth gf  
> ALSO I wanted to to gift this to my partners in crime because they're the sweetest (and also ridiculously talented)

Bam's seriously thinking of moving to Europe. 

He's found himself spending more time in the Old Country than in his own home lately; and people here don't even know him all too well, which has its upsides too. Like a little more privacy, which usually isn't very high in his priority list, but he does appreciate it from time to time. 

From time to time, like when he's in HIM's dressing room before a show - like now. 

Bam is in HIM's dressing room somewhere in Eastern Europe but the band isn't there with him, they're onstage for soundcheck. Bam can feel the bass drum thump throughout the whole building, as well as Ville's voice in certain points in certain songs. His back relaxes against the backrest of the brown couch; he feels more at ease in a random, bare, windowless dressing room behind a stage, somewhere where people speak a language he doesn't even understand, rather than when he's in his actual house. 

Not that he doesn't like his life back in the US. But with Ville there's something different, something unique, something more. 

When the band finishes, the silence is absolute until some steps down the stairs get louder and louder. This is when Bam expects a break-in - but the doorknob turns slowly, a little too slowly, or maybe Bam's just very impatient right now. The doorknob turns slowly and it's only Ville. 

“Hey,” Ville says with a small smile, but his voice is dull. 

“Hey Ville,” Bam says, gets up, walks closer. “You okay?” 

“Yeah… yeah, sorry,” he says. “I'm just tired. The others went out to grab something to eat but I didn't feel like it. Also, I knew I'd find you here.” 

Bam smiles - the fact that Ville thought of him warms his heart. 

Maybe a little too much so. Bam lowers his gaze. 

“It's just - this tour seems endless. It gets repetitive after a while,” Ville says. 

“Aren't you having fun?” Bam asks. 

“Well, yeah,” Ville says. “It just gets boring after a while.” 

Bam doesn't answer. The closest thing to touring he knows is skating competitions, and they certainly don't last months - months where you sleep little and badly and every day you wake up in a different part of the world which looks like any other somehow. Months where you're staying away from those you love and where you do the same things every day. Bam wonders if it's as alienating as it sounds. 

Ville squats down to a backpack on the floor. He unzips it and pulls out some things: a pair of skinny jeans (which look ridiculously tiny), a black button down shirt, a make-up bag and a bottle of beer. He stands up, bottle in his hand, and quickly glances around. 

“I guess we're gonna have to settle for warm beer,” he says. 

He brings the bottle and the make-up bag to the dressing table, the only thing in the room except for the brown couch, and Bam follows him without even noticing. Bam grabs the bottle and opens it with his teeth, watching Ville snort in the mirror. Bam takes a sip and hands it over to Ville. 

“Today soundcheck took forever,” Ville says after a long sip. He opens the little bag and empties its contents on the counter. “I'll start getting ready now so I can get it over with.” 

Bam almost feels in the way now. An audience that isn't supposed to be there. There's Ville with his own reflection and Bam is a voyeur, a third party. He doesn't know why exactly, maybe because he thinks he's staring, or maybe Ville's just so absorbed in putting make up on his face that it looks like something way more personal and private than it actually is. 

Whatever it is, Bam's standing still, mouth agape, watching him. 

And Ville notices. Obviously. 

“Bam,” he says to the mirror. “You wanna take a pic or something?” 

Ville turns to him and brings the bottle to his lips. There's amusement on his face, but Bam feels his cheeks burn nonetheless. 

“No - it's just… I was thinking -”  _ Thinking of what, Bam?  _

“Thinking of that time I put make-up on to go to a Turbonegro show,” Bam cringes, brings a hand to his nape. 

Ville shakes his head, smirking. When he rests the bottle on the counter, Bam notices it's almost empty. 

Ville's gaze goes back to the mirror, but when he raises an eyebrow, it's Bam he's looking at. 

“You wanna do this for me?” 

Bam frowns. Ville brandishes a brush, eyes on him through the reflection. A challenge. 

Okay. So maybe the final result of his make-up for the show wasn't great, he surely isn't a promising young of the beauty industry and personal care certainly isn't his vocation, but he's never, ever been one to turn down a challenge. Ever. 

And having an acceptable reason to be voyeuristically observing Ville's face makes it all even better. 

He grins. Ville hands him the brush. 

And so Bam drenches the brush with pink eyeshadow and leans over to him. Ville closes his eyes and Bam's breath gets caught in his throat. 

He forces it, tries to breathe even if it's hard. But Ville's face is too close and his breath is warm against his face - and Bam guesses that, was Ville to open his eyes right now, now that they're mere inches apart, he'd probably have a heart attack or an embolus. Because his eyes are unbelievable and intense even at a distance, and Bam doesn't think he'd be able to tolerate their weight this close. 

Bam's also incredibly aware of his own heartbeat. Thu-dump, thu-dump, thu-dump. And Ville's breathing, just a bit shallow, seems to be in sync with it. 

His hand shakes even though the heel is rested against Ville's cheek; the way the brush touches the eyelid is shamefully awkward. The bristles stroke and smooth the skin, and the movement is clumsy so the powder ends up on Ville's cheekbone. 

Bam's heartbeat grows faster. Thu-dump, thu-dump, thu-dump. 

It blurs his eyesight. 

“You look uncomfortable,” Ville says. “Why don't you have a seat?” 

“Where?” Bam asks, willing his voice to sound louder than his heart. There's no other chair nearby, except for the stool where Ville's sitting. 

“Here.” 

Ville pats his thighs twice, grinning, one eye smeared with pink. 

_ Thu-dump thu-dump thu-dump thu-dump thu-dump thu-dump. _

Bam sits down, putting almost all of his weight onto his feet on the floor, his whole body tense. Ville radiates warmth underneath him but his hands break into a cold sweat nonetheless. 

“So?” Ville says. “You still have to do the other eye.” 

Bam nods, swallows. Ville's voice is a distant sound. 

Thu-dump, thu-dump, thu-dump. 

Bam rests his pinky under the other eye and puts make-up on it. 

“Don't forget the lips,” Ville says. 

Bam can't even hear him anymore. 

Yet somehow he does register the request and grabs a lipstick from the counter on his right. 

He observes it as he opens it, almost fascinated by it. The tip is blunt, rounded. Bam runs a finger on it and brings it to Ville's parted lips. 

They're soft and full and Bam feels this close to definitively, irredeemably losing his sanity. 

He's focused on his heartbeat, thu-dump thu-dump thu-dump, which fills his ears and detaches him from reality, when Ville inadvertently licks his finger. It's just a quick touch, a moment, but it's all it takes for the thu-dump thu-dump to stop. Bam's eyes widen and Ville looks at him from below, the finger on his bottom lip. Ville brings a hand to Bam's wrist, holding him in place, while his lips close around his finger, sucking just a bit. 

Which is when Bam's mind sets off in three thousand different directions. 

All his blood flows to a single, predictable place instead. 

There's no blood left in his brain and Bam annuls the small distance between them without a thought; he kisses Ville's mouth. His heart starts beating fast again, his agitated hands ending up on Ville's head and neck, and he kisses him as if he was the most beautiful thing in the world, as if he was waiting for this moment for a long, long time, and as if he was all he's wanted ever since he first saw him. 

And maybe, actually, it's just like that. 

Ville smiles into the kiss, his hands on Bam's hips, on his chest, on his cheeks. The way he holds his face is sweet and maybe Bam's imagination is running a little too wild, but maybe, just maybe, Ville feels at home with him just the way he does. 

Their lips part. Bam rests his forehead against Ville's and closes his eyes. 

He feels the thu-dump thu-dump again, but this once it doesn't come from him only. 

“You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this,” Ville whispers, and Bam lifts his chin with a finger, kissing him again. 

**Author's Note:**

> Title is a HIM song. 
> 
> xnowimnothing.tumblr.com


End file.
